


Weighted Blanket

by Dunebugger



Series: Jeremy and Michael's Lovey-Dovey Antics [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Awkwardness, Fluff, M/M, No SQUIP, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but cute, jeremy and michael are in love, mentions of Spencer's (the store), no one has a squip, this is sorta like a mini date for em, weighted blankets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunebugger/pseuds/Dunebugger
Summary: It's Friday evening, and Jeremy is excited to hang out at Michael's for the weekend while his moms are busy working. While he has plans for the both of them, Michael has something else up his sleeve. Something much more heavy and cozy.OrIn which Michael gifts Jeremy a weighted blanket + general fluffy antics.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Series: Jeremy and Michael's Lovey-Dovey Antics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794802
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Weighted Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo!! I hope you enjoy this fluff! Remember to stay safe - drink some water!! 
> 
> I'll see y'all at the end!

“Fuck, Michael, why is this so heavy?” I groaned as I heaved the weighty box down the stairs. Step by step, I stomped down the stairs slowly, carrying the box with my chin resting on top. 

“It’s filled with love, that’s why!” Michael shouted, eyes still glued to the screen. From the top of the stairs, I could hear: _PK Fire! PK Thunder!_

* * *

Earlier, before school started, (we were sitting in English class) Michael wouldn’t stop bugging me about a new gift, something that I would apparently _really_ enjoy. While I, uh, had to kick myself out of the gutter at first, I couldn’t shake it off. There hasn't been anything I said I _wanted_ recently. I mean, sure, video games are a given, but besides that, what would he offer? A Jamba Juice gift card? An overdue library book? I mean, he did “gift” me Rich’s backpack that one time — I got tackled to the ground once he saw me across campus holding on to it. I was gonna give it back to him later anyways!

I don’t have a lot of interests, now that I think about it. This gift of his would be a mixed bag. On the other hand, I’ve taken note how Michael _loves_ to chatter and talk about things: expired HI-C history, his latest Discovery channel viewing with his moms, or even his latest deal on gundam figures. I actually ordered a box of expired soda a week ago to surprise him later on. 

His ramblings are always stream-of-consciousness, always bouncing back and forth on topics, really rambling about them — especially when he is high off his mind. I haven’t done it yet — just so there is at least one of us being safe — but it looks like it genuinely calms him down when he rants about the latest prick of the day. 

Since it was the weekend, I had a novel idea to stay at Michael’s. I had prepared a couple of plans for us to do — I haven’t actually told him yet, though. Dad said that he’d let me stay over since it's a Friday and all, but then he started talking about the importance of being independent and making wise decisions, and my mind started to trail off at the end. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly recognize a sleepover as a rite of passage, but I understand him trying his hardest ever since I came out a few months ago. It was around the same time I said that Michael and I were an item. He was the one to drop me off a few hours earlier, giving me a pat on the back, yelling “Have fun, kiddo! You got everything?” I checked again: backpack with the plans, phone and phone charger, spare clothes, and a toothbrush. I forgot to stash a towel, but I didn’t wanna have him drive all the way back home for one. I’ll probably just ask Michael for one. Besides that, it sounds like everything. I nodded towards his direction and he smiled. “Seriously. Go and have fun. Call me if you need anything.” I smiled at him for that. Once I was in front of the door. I waved goodbye as he rolled away, and rapped my closed fist against the wooden door. Michael was already decked out in some Super Mario pajama pants and a loose tank top when he answered it. 

He looked _gorgeous_. His loose curls fell on his forehead just right, and his posture in the door frame looked angelic. I went weak in the knees. He pushed up his glasses, grinning widely. “Jeremy!! You’re here!” He gave me a big hug — I tried my hardest to match Michael’s intensity. “Come on in!” 

While I took off my sneakers, he said that his moms were busy working tonight, and that they left some food for us. He led me to the kitchen, where a frozen pizza was set out. “Hold on, lemme preheat the oven.” He said as he scurried over to the oven. “You can go put your backpack downstairs!” I agreed and made my way to the entrance way of the basement. Michael’s house had many twists and turns.

I honestly haven’t memorized his place yet. Michael has made himself cozy at my house plenty of times though — one weekend when I walked down the stairs, I saw him typing on his phone on the old leather couch we have. I nearly woke up our neighbors that morning, when I screamed and Michael ran over to assure me that no intruders broke in. I playfully punched his shoulder as revenge, and gave him a strong peck to his cheek as _extra_ -revenge. I remember seeing him look as flabbergasted as I was at first when I walked away to get some Cheerios from the pantry. Over breakfast, he said that we have a key underneath the outside mat. Which _I_ didn’t even know. Apparently, Dad hid it there so Michael can come over anytime. Why he didn’t tell me I would never know, but I could already imagine him and Michael scheming on how to scare me. When he eventually woke up, Michael and I hid behind the entrance way, and scared him right when he entered the kitchen.

I approached the door that led to the basement. Posing as one of the countless doors in the house, behind it, a flight of creaky wooden stairs plunged downward. I flipped the lightswitch on, alighting the equally old light fixtures on the ceiling. I made my way down, nearly missing the last step, I stood at the foot of the stairs. I felt on the wall to the left, feeling for another switch. Feeling it, I flipped that switch on as well, and the whole room illuminated. 

The basement was astounding, and the way Michael decked it out throughout the school years made it truly feel like a second home. It was about the size of a regular guest bedroom; Michael said that it originally was used to house leftover furniture when they moved, but after a massive garage sale, he was able to keep the downstairs area as long as he had better grades than Ds. Which hey, wasn’t too difficult.

I set my backpack down by his drawing desk, fiddled with the zipper, brought out my charger, and plugged in my phone. I set the phone down, leant against the wall, and slid down on the concrete. From this angle, everything in this room looks bigger. I could see the comics and other books packed neatly in the bookcase and the dusty undersides of the bed frame. The concrete floor felt colder than usual. 

“Jeremy! Come on, I wanna show you how the garden looks so far!” I heard Michael shout from up top of the stairway. I hurriedly bounced towards the flight of stairs and rushed up.

* * *

We sat in the garden while we gobbled down the pizza. Supreme pizza, to me, is the absolute best. It has all of the toppings — when we made personal pizzas one time at a build-your-own pizza place, I ordered _everything_ on mine, even pineapples (to Michael’s disgust). We sat at his garden table set, enjoying the growing scenery of his moms’ garden — Michael says that they recently dug up all of the old shrubbery and uprooted all the pesky roots. They want an ‘enchanted garden’, whatever that means. 

“Isn’t that gonna cost a lot?” I asked. 

“That’s what I told them, but they went ahead and bought all of the flowers already.” he gestured toward the containers containing flowers that were off to the side of us. “They bought all sorts of flowers: hyacinths, daisies, tulips, chrysanthemums…”

“Damn, it must’ve cost a lot.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that!” He took a sip from the glass of water he brought with him. He offered me some earlier, but I drank from my hydro flask filled with ice cubes instead. “ That’s why they’re working more nights this month.” He put his hands behind his head while crossing a knee. “Hey, I support them wanting to invest in personal hobbies. That’s what I do with gundam figures and soda anyways.” I nodded, agreeing.

“How’s the job at the mall?” I ask. He has been busy for quite a couple days after school, working at the Spencer’s: he has had plenty of stories of whacko customers, like a dude who tried to smuggle ten shirts in his pants and a little child trying to shoplift some incense. 

“Eh, it’s fine. It feels cool to be a workin’ boy, though. Plus, I’m able to buy stuff without tellin’ the parentals.” He rubbed his hands with his napkin. “Although, I’ve got to show you some cool new stuff in there sometime. My coworker recently opened a new shipment of candles — no, not Bath and Body Works candles — cursed candles that have been hexed by a witch, apparently.” He waved his arms around in circles, like a witch turning a cauldron’s mixture. “Rich and Jake both agree that it could’ve been hexed, especially since it’s coming from Spencer’s!”

“Damn, what kind of scents are there?”

“They were in latin! But a few were in different languages. Like, I saw ‘Mahal Kita’.”

That phrase felt familiar. “Hey, wait, that’s like… tagalog for ‘I love you’, right?” 

“Yep! Pretty romantic if you ask me.” A subtle blush was swept across his cheeks. He perked up. “I’ll buy us some whenever we go to the mall next time.”

* * *

He washed up the pizza pan while I got the Gamecube ready downstairs in the basement. The tricky AV cords need some meddling with in order to get them to work properly. I opened up Super Smash Bros. to check if the two controllers worked — they did — and then I pressed ‘start’ to initiate the game. I heard the faucet stop upstairs, making me realize I forgot to wait for him, so I pressed pause before I went back up. 

I got to the top and once I saw the large package, I froze. Michael was pushing the package out from a shoe closet (where did that come from?), and didn’t look like he noticed me yet. I cleared my throat, and Michael jumped back, startled. “Jesus, Jeremy, don’t do that!” he fussed. “Wait downstairs for me.”

I arched a brow. “You look like you’re in pain from pushing—” I motion my hand over the package: “whatever this is. Do you want help?” 

He huffed. “ _No._ ” He wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Actually, yes.” he gave in. I grinned, and proceeded to lift up the package from the bottom — I forgot how heavy it’s supposed to be. I gathered it, looking like I was about to granny shoot a basketball. 

“Hey, great job!” He clapped a hand on my back. “On that note… I’ll see you downstairs!” Despite my arguing, he ran downstairs, giggling. “Fuck you!” I called him out. All I got back was more laughing. I changed my grip on the box again and stared down the long flight of stairs. I debated putting it down and slowly pushing it step by step, but that way would take longer — better as well just do the quicker way. I took my first step, earning a wheeze from the floorboards. 

This is going to take some time. 

* * *

My palms were probably ghost white at this point. 

I was maybe half-way down the stairs at this point. “Michael, come back here!” I yelled. “No can do, Jere-Bear!” he laughed. “Plus, you’re almost here.” God, I hate his snark sometimes. I was now able to see Michael at this point, sitting in one of the bean bag chairs, focused on fighting. Michael sunk deeper into the bean bag chair, trying to finally beat the CPU in Smash Bros. He got thrown off the stage multiple times, but always came back to strike before the opponent could properly roll away. 

A few more steps and I finally got it down to the last plank, heaving slightly hard. “If it’s something special, why didn’t you wrap it?” I pat the brown cardboard exterior. 

“It’s just gonna get torn apart anyway!” Michael yelped as he got falcon punched off the stage. “Tch. Touché.”

I started to push the package towards Michael, gripping my toes into the cement, when _“GAME!”_ , shouted the announcer. Michael didn’t have time to revel in victory as he quickly broke out of his bean bag seat to assist me with the shipment. His hands on the other side, we sat it in front of the two bean bags. Sitting in front of us was a hefty package, about the size of a mini fridge turned on its side. 

“So — are you gonna tell me what this is? Oh, is it some expired Raspberry Pepsi?” I asked. “Damn, I knew I should’ve ordered it sooner.” 

“Huh?” Michael looked at me curiously. Nervously, I chuckled, “Nothing! I didn’t say anything!” _Fuck fuck fuck I shouldn’t have told him that._ Michael just rubbed the back of his head in sheepishness. “Come on, let’s get this bad boy open.” He hunched over the box and used his fingernails to start ripping open the top slit.

“Hey, I thought this was my present!” I whined. Michael scoffed, stepped aside, and let me open it the rest of the way. With strong force, I pried open the last flap. The box gave way, and after some layers of bubble wrap, the gift revealed itself. Well, sorta. 

“You got me blue fabric?” _What in the world…_ I messed with the deep-blue, velvet fabric that sat flat in the box. The fabric wouldn’t budge too much, staying put no matter how hard I pulled it upwards. I felt a hand on my back. “ _No Jere_ , pull it out.” Michael assured me. 

“Oh.” I tugged at the fabric again, to no avail. Gritting my teeth, I underestimated the heft of the fabric. Hauling the fabric again, I fall back, the box tipping with me. I hit my head on the cement floor. “Shit!” Michael crouched down next to me, gripping my shoulders. “Fuck, Jeremy, are you alright?” I feigned injury as I rubbed my head, until I couldn't help it and started laughing: “I got you!” I laughed hysterically. After he grimaced, he laughed along with me. ”That’s what you get for being a jerk and not helping me!” I explain myself. Michael shrugged in defeat, although grinning still. “Yeah, I earned that.“ 

After helping me up, he gestured toward the toppled blanket. “Take a look at this!” Michael said, helping me up. “Your own weighted blanket!” I held onto Michael’s arm. “Wha?”

“It’s a blanket!” Michael gestured toward the blanket on the ground. “But heavier!” Michael attempted to drag the rest of the blanket out, and threw the cardboard box across the room. He jerked the blanket closer to the sturdy bed frame. With quick haste, Michael piled up his four pillows, two by two, near the top of the mattress. The already heavy duvets were tidied as well, and when his bed was made,with a grunt, he picked up the blanket and tossed it onto the bed. The lump of fabric sat awkwardly, so he straightened it out, making the bed look even more presentable. 

Michael, happy with his work, turned back to me. “Come on, try it!”, he encouraged. I mean, it _did_ look inviting. I proceeded to step in the covers, left foot first. “Oh wait!” Michael cried out. “Take off your clothes!” 

I could _feel_ myself blush cherry-red. I think Michael noticed too. “Not like that!” he assured me. “It’s gonna get very warm if you wear thick clothes, Jere.” I mean, the basement always got slightly colder at nights, so Michael’s tactics to combat the cold were always to layer and curl up against me whenever I stayed over. I mean, I’m _not_ complaining per se — it’s also a win for me, because besides being able to spoon against Michael, he is like a big, warm teddy bear. 

The one basement window that is high enough to be level with the ground had a curtain covering it, slid shut by Michael himself earlier. “Hey, is it okay if you just open the window instead?” I meekly ask. “I don’t really, uh, feel comfortable yet to, uh… “ 

_“Of course it’s fine Jeremy.”_ Michael held and rubbed the palm of my hand. He went over and slid the window sill open. “Alright, ready?” 

“Wait, you wanna go to sleep, _already_?” I asked, incredulous. “The night’s still young, Mikey!” I walked toward the windowsill and opened the curtain only to be greeted by darkness. “Oh.”

Michael was quick to console. “If you wanna play more, it’s cool, don’t worry!” He placed a hand on my shoulder. I closed the curtain and put my hands on his hips. “Nah, you’re right. We should probably rest up for tomorrow.” Michael gave a small smile, which I threw right back. “Alright — only if it’s okay with you.” Michael took each of my hands. “Brush your teeth and change before you get in the bed, though.”

“Mhm. Uh-uhm, where’s your bathroom?” Again, I have _got_ to memorize this place sometime soon. 

“Up the stairs, down the hall, to the left.”

“Mm.” I nodded affirmatively. I rustled through my backpack and grabbed my PJs. Digging through the water bottle pocket, I also grabbed my toothbrush. “Do you mind if I borrow a towel?”

“Nah.

“Sweet, thanks!” I padded up the first few steps of the stairs before I stopped to face him. “You know, you should invest in a bathroom down here.”

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to tear down some of these walls and— ” Michael waved his hands in front of him. “I’ll tell you later! Now — go on!” He shooed me away.

His bathroom is ginormous, easily beating the one at my house. Plus, it has a walk-in shower! Michael should definitely volunteer his house to be showcased on one of those shows on HGTV. On a towel rack sat about six luxury towels, wrapped up like silverware in a restaurant. I grabbed one on top and set it aside, along with my clothes. I took my shower without disruption, only when I was busy drying up that I heard the handle jiggle. Swiftly, I saw Michael’s head peep around the doorframe. It was only when he peeked in that I noticed I forgot to lock the door. 

“Agh!” I squeaked, clutching the towel in front of my figure. I had nearly slipped and fell down.

“Oh shoot, sorry Jere!” Michael apologized. “I, uh, are you almost done? I wanna brush my teeth.”

“Right, uh-uhm, gimme a minute!” 

“Okay!”

My heart started to palpitate slower, the heart beats starting to space out more within each other. I gripped the edge of the sink to pull myself up, and then went on to dry my body faster than before. I quickly slipped on my tank top, followed by the underwear and PJs I packed. I took one last look in the mirror before I finally opened the door. 

Michael sat on the opposite end of the doorway, idly waiting while presumably playing pac-man arcade on his phone. I cleared my throat, and Michael trotted on over. “Hey, sorry about that.” He peeped out as I closed the door behind us. “Should’ve knocked first.” He bashfully chuckled. 

“Hey, it’s cool, Mikey.” I accepted his apology. “Now, where’s that toothpaste?”

* * *

Returning back to the basement, it looked like he had cleaned up the whole place while I took a shower. The TV was switched off (the Gamecube sat on top of it), and the bean bags were pulled out of the way. My backpack leaned against the wall next to the bed, as if no one tampered with it. Michael followed from behind, looking slightly proud of his work. “So, whaddya think?” He put his hands on his hips.

“What, that you finally cleaned your room?” I snickered. He playfully punched me. 

“For your information, this is technically the _basement_ , not my actual room.” He crossed his arms and huffed. 

“C’mon, nerd.” I teased.

Approaching the bed again, Michael pulled back the weighted blanket so I could lay down and snuggle in. I inserted my first leg, already sensing a hassle in bringing my whole body inside. It took a little bit of work, but once I was fully situated, Michael pulled up the weighted blanket. All at once, I could feel the weight and plain _comfort_ that the blanket brought, as if someone was pressing on all areas of my body, smushing me into the comfy mattress. I felt like...gelatin. Michael moved some pillows making it so it’d be surrounding all areas of my head. 

The wind flowed throughout and circulated the coldness around, not making it such a sauna underneath the blankets.

“Scooch.” Michael said, and with all of my power, I squirmed on over to the other side of the mattress, closest to the window. Michael lifted up the blanket, same as before, and made it so he would be situated next to me. Once he was fully in, he turned around to face me. Even in the dim moonlight, I could see that his cheeks were flushed. We were so close to each other, I could feel Michael’s small breaths on my face. Michael rubbed his face against the fluffy pillow. “How’re you liking it, Jere?” he asks. All I did was lean over with all my might and plop a kiss on his cheek, and went on to give Michael small kisses on his neck. The trail of kisses ended near his collarbone; I swiped at my forehead, getting kinda sweaty and heated; I unfolded the blankets on my side a little bit. 

A cool breeze rolled through, oaky scents filling the room, making the stuffy area smell like an open forest. I crawled underneath the thick covers once again, shivering slightly at the thought of being in the same bed as Michael — sure, we’ve done it lots of times since we became a couple, but it still sends tingles up my spine whenever I reach over and feel his shoulder making contact with me. Michael chuckled. “It’s okay Jere, nothin’ to be afraid of.” Michael, arms to his side, laid belly up, staring at the blank ceiling above of him. 

“Y’know, this gift is really appreciated.” I said, not thinking about what I was saying. “I feel like a giant is holding me down.” I mirrored Michael’s form, turning over so I would also be facing the ceiling. Being in the corner of the room, on a bed with several layers of sheets, it had the ability to make me claustrophobic. But, just laying there, next to my boyfriend — this was bliss. 

Underneath the sheets, I found Michael’s open palm, and took his hand into my own. Without looking, I could spot the grin on his face. I could feel Michael snuggle closer, really feeling the close proximity. 

“This was really sweet of you, Michael.” I cooed. “This... _wow_. It feels amazing.” I arched my back against the mattress. “If I could keyboard smash in real life, this would be how it feels like.” Michael giggled, shaking the bed slightly. “I know, right? My therapist advised I should invest in something like this. I actually have one in my room, in the same color!” Jeremy arched a brow at this. “Why haven’t I seen it before?”

“I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise!”

“I would’ve thought that it’s just a new blanket, Mikey.”

“Oh, right. Duh.” Michael blushed. 

We sat in silence — peaceful, relaxing silence — as we both enjoyed the comfort that the blanket brought. I started to trace the cracks of the ceiling boards, the lines interconnecting and going back and forth. It was all starting to make me sleepy, for the most part. 

“Michael, you’ve been the sweetest thing in my life so far.” I felt myself ramble. “I know that I usually have those nervous ticks still and just general anxiety, but I _feel_ better next to you.” I shifted my head to turn and face him a little closer. “I wanted to thank you for being so nice and cool and great and _I love you_ —”

“Jere, I love you too.” He breathed out. “But I want _you_ to know that I love every part of you, which includes those ‘nervous ticks’.” He shifted closer to my shoulder. “This feels… good.”

“Mmm.” 

“Hey, I’m starting to get sleepy.” I murmured out.

“Mm. Do you wanna sleep now?”

“Uh...nah. I think I would rather just lay here with you.” 

I wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulders, pulling him close. 

* * *

The light shined in through the curtains of the window. 

I tried my hardest to open my eyes, while struggling at first, I blinked and found myself nearly laying on top of Michael, who was still snoring softly. I decided against moving, and instead curled up more, enveloping him further. 

We had a long weekend ahead. The plans are all wrapped up in my bag. But for now, it was time to rest.

END

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in my series of fluff pieces for Boyf Riends! I take a while to churn 'em out, but I hope to do more soon! Meanwhile, I'm gonna go paint my nails...
> 
> How was it? How did I do? Please comment below! 
> 
> Fun fact: I do not have a beta reader, so I had a text-to-speech modulator read it all out, haha


End file.
